


Whatever Way Our Stories End

by fallenangel218



Category: NCIS
Genre: Current Events, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:52:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenangel218/pseuds/fallenangel218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saddened to hear of the death of an author friend, Tim reflects on the influence she had on his life, and his desire to write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever Way Our Stories End

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the life of Dr. Maya Angelou (1928-2014). 
> 
> Written for the NFA "Because of You I've Changed for Good" challenge

The squad room was empty, except for Tim. 

His desk lamp was the only source of light he was using. In front of him, an old binder lay open. He was hunched over it, engrossed in his reading. He didn't notice Gibbs come around the corner, and stop at his desk. 

"Tim." 

He looked up at Gibbs, shutting his binder quickly. 

"Do we have a callout?" he asked. 

"No Tim, it's midnight. You can go home," Gibbs said with a smile. 

Tim looked at his watch. Had he really been reading for four hours? 

"Is everything okay?" Gibbs asked with concern in his eyes. 

Tim looked down at his binder. Everything wasn't okay, but how would he begin to tell Gibbs about it? 

"An author friend of mine just passed away. I heard it on the car radio this morning on my way to NCIS." 

"Why didn't you tell me this morning, Tim? I would have let you take the day." 

"I was all right this morning," he said as he started to gather his things. "Then I started thinking about her. She was-- well, she was incredible." 

"You were good friends?" 

"I wouldn't say _good friends._ I met her at a poetry reading in Georgetown. I talked with her for two hours after her reading. She's an amazing person, Boss. She's been through so much, and she had so much confidence. I admired her confidence, and I wanted it for myself." 

They walked to the elevator together, and Gibbs pushed the call button. 

"You've shown me your confidence over the past 10 years, Tim. You don't have to wish for it." 

"On the job, yeah, but not in my writing. I always plan out two hours a night for writing. I end up sitting at my desk all night, staring at the typewriter. Then, when I do finally write something, I have to shred it because it's so god awful." 

"You've published two books that were very well written." 

"It took me years to write those books, and I _still_ want to make edits to them every time I see them." 

"Writing is never perfect, Tim. No one person can do any job with perfection." 

The elevator opened and they stepped inside. Gibbs pressed the ground level button, and they descended. 

"I don't want to be perfect, Boss. I just want to write like her." 

"I don't know much about writing, but I heard my Father say once that every book he read is always different, because every writer has their own unique voice. Your friend had her own voice, and so does Thom E Gemcity." 

"That's true." 

"I'm sorry about your friend, Tim. I'm sure she was an incredible person." 

"Thanks, Boss. Would you like to read one of her books?" 

Gibbs hesitated. 

"Sure, Tim. Why not?" 

Tim grinned as the elevator opened. They stepped out into the parking garage, and he opened up his bag, took out a novel, and handed it to Gibbs. 

_"I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings."_

"Yep." 

"Your friend is Maya Angelou?" 

Tim smiled and took his car keys from his pocket. 

"Enjoy, Boss." 

"Good night, Tim," he said, staring at the book in shock. 

"Good night, and thanks for listening. I feel a lot better." 

"Anytime." 

Gibbs watched him go, and stared down at the novel in his hands. He could finally see why Tim was so inspired to write. 

**END**

_So much of me,  
Is made of what I learned from you.   
You'll be with me,   
Like a handprint on my heart.   
And now whatever way our stories end,   
I know you have re-written mine,   
By being my friend...   
\--For Good, from the Musical, Wicked_


End file.
